


Coda

by captain_subtext



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 12:16:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18810730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_subtext/pseuds/captain_subtext
Summary: Because I couldn't let Endgame's ending sit. Spoilers abound.





	Coda

Blue, as far as the eye could see, the kind of high, bright blue sky only seen in the mountains.

Natasha sat up. The green and yellow glass tickled her shoulders, the smell fresher and cleaner than the most carefully manicured lawn.

A stand of evergreens so tall they must have been seedlings in the middle ages surrounded the meadow. Beyond it, mountains so high and far that they showed misty purple, their snowy peaks obscured by wispy clouds that meandered past in a breeze just cool enough to relieve the heat of the brilliant sun overhead. 

Natasha took a deep breath. Clover, and pine, and a dozen scents she’d not smelled in New York, or Budapest, or any of the thousand stone and concrete cities she’d visited. A perfect day in…

Well, she didn’t know exactly where she was. Something pinged at the back of Natasha’s mind, something...but surely it couldn’t matter. What could be wrong in a world that offered this? Never had she been so calm, so—

“Get up!”

Her head whipped towards the voice. More field greeted her, stretching back to the treeline. A curious wooden house lay nestled between two stands of firs. 

“Who’s there?” she called.

“Get up, damn you!”

Natasha froze. That figure that blocked the blue sky...tall, thin, with black hair curling round his collar, and lip curling in his pointed, hateful face. But...no. It couldn’t be. Could it?”

“...Loki?” she asked.

“The same,” he growled. 

“Thor said you were dead.” Her voice landed flat. In a space this wide it should have carried on the breeze, but she sounded as though she were locked in a box. 

“I am,” Loki said. “And so are you.”

“But…” Oh, there it was. A cliff. Clint. A length of rope. And a fall so long that it seemed as though it couldn’t end, until a sickening thud, and blackness. “Why are you here?” she asked. “Aren’t we on Vormir?”

“Oh, is THAT how this came about?” Loki loomed over her. “Tell me, did the Hawk push you off or...no, you sacrificed yourself didn’t you? ‘Earth’s mightiest heroes’ indeed!”

“Yes. Yes!” It all came rushing back: the hooded figure, the demand, Clint. It had to happen…”But it didn’t work! I’m still here. Clint didn’t get—”

“I imagine it did work. You are very much a ghost,” Loki said.

“But then, where are we?”

“Fólkvangr.” Loki swept his arm at the scenery. “The Field of the Fallen, Freja’s version of Valhalla. And yet you and I are the only ones not invited to the hall.”

“But I’m not even Norse!” Natasha staggered to her feet. “Dammit Loki, if this is one of your tricks—”

“It is not!” Loki said, lurching close enough for his spittle to hit her face.. “I too am dead, and not invited to the feast. Why do you think that is?”

Natasha ticked off on her fingers, “Because you’re a liar, a killer, a fratricidal usuper—”

“Who died saving his brother. As you died to save everyone,” Loki replied. “So why aren’t you there?”

“Did we win?” Natasha said. “Did they get the other infinity stones? Is Thanos gone?”

“I know not. News of the living doesn’t reach the dead. But I do know that if Thanos prevailed, not only Midgard fell. The entire universe has lost half its beings.” Loki narrowed his eyes. “We must help.”

“I can’t.” Natasha rubbed her eyes. No, this had to be some sort of trick, or one of those visions people had when they were dying, like a tunnel of light or some shit. Her entire life had led her to Vormir. She gave herself willingly. “If you’re right, and I’m-we’re-dead, what can we do?”

“We are not in the hall.” Loki pointed at the building between the firs. “All those slain in battle awake in the halls of Valhalla or Fólkvangr. Yet here I am in a field with _you_.”

“So you’re not worthy?” Natasha snapped. “Big shock there!”

“I died! Unwillingly! Protecting my oaf of a brother so he might protect your entire realm, you ungrateful wench!” 

For a moment Loki looked like he was going to strike her, and she tensed for battle. But instead he paced like a caged lion.

“We could leave.” Loki said, kicking a clod of dirt on the ground. “I know a thousand paths through the realms.” 

“Who’s this ‘we’? I’m not going anywhere with you.” Natasha sat back down in the grass. “I did my time. I did everything I could.”

“Did you?” Loki asked. “Did you really?”

“Yes.” _No_. Something...no, Steve would win. They would all win. She’d died believing that. But still, something grated.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” Loki crouched beside her. “That restlessness in your heart. Like something—”

“Something unfinished.” Natasha hadn’t meant to say it. But the words echoed, across the field, past the forest, to the very peaks of the distant mountains.

“And would you let it remain so?” Loki whispered. “The hall awaits us, when it’s time. We know that now. But with other realms at risk…” Loki swallowed. “With my brother, and all that remains of Asgard…”

“No.” Natasha shook her head. “We can’t. _I_ can’t.”

Loki shot to his feet. “So get up.”

He offered his hand.

Natasha took it.

**Author's Note:**

> I chose to play with the idea of Fólkvangr, the *other* realm where the victorious slain of Asgard retire. I didn't think Loki would be keen to spend eternity with Odin, and that as a fallen woman warrior, Natasha would go to the realm ruled by a woman. And because they aren't ready (as opposed to unworthy) they'd find themselves in Folkvangr but not at the table.
> 
> Added because Loki was finally getting a conscience when he died, and Natasha's so driven I can't imagine her quitting if she discovers other realms are suffering. 
> 
> Make of it what you will.


End file.
